


Enemy Action

by Fides



Series: Plausible Deniability [3]
Category: State Within
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Phone Sex, Voyeurism, mmom, mmom 2010, mmom 2010: day 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-11
Updated: 2010-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fides/pseuds/Fides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not for the first time Mark stumbles on something he didn't mean to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enemy Action

Mark heard them before he saw them - a low ripple of laughter that was both recognisable as Nicholas and like nothing he had heard from the man before. Maybe that was why he didn't reach out immediately and turn the lights on in the shared room of the suite that the embassy team were all in - surprise as much as not wanting to disturb whatever had caused Nicholas to sound that... relaxed. Everyone else was still downstairs, debating staying in the hotel bar or exploring further. Nicholas had excused himself half an hour before, claiming a prior engagement, and there was a certain satisfaction at being the one to catch him out. Mark suppressed the childish desire to knock on the door to Nicholas' room, partially open from the thick ribbon of radiance that spilled out from it, just to make the man jump.

"About a week..." Nicholas' voice was clear. There was a pause and then, "no, I won't bring you back some rock... well if you want something to suck, Sweetheart..."

Mark stumbled against a chair in the almost-dark, knocking it. He froze at the dull thump it made but there was no indication from the other room that Nicholas knew that his private conversation wasn't. Nor was it a 'them' Mark realised, but a phone call he was overhearing. He hurried to his own room before he was caught in turn, his impulse not to interrupt whatever had been happening suddenly seeming foolish. Nicholas was not the kind to leave his door open by accident. More likely he had done so to listen out for his colleagues returning, it was only Mark's misinterpretation which had resulted in his sneaking across the floor like a school-kid stealing in past curfew.

There was silence from Nicholas' room, either he was listening or the call had come to an end. Mark ducked into his own room before he was presented with proof positive of which. He pulled the door shut - but not all the way, not wanting to risk the sound giving him away. Sitting down on the edge of his bed in the dark he laughed at himself and acknowledged a little vindictive curiosity in his actions. Nicholas spied - it was what he did - and, for all their easy working relationship with each other, Mark wouldn't rule out the possibility that Nicholas had spied on him any number of times. It wasn't quite pay-back, resentment for having to have someone in Nicholas' position more than the man himself. But at the same time, Nicholas, for all his open friendliness was something of a closed book. Mark had come close to believing that he knew all of the man that there was to know, but the brief, and unintentional, eavesdropping had shown him that there was a lot more. Mark wanted to know what that was. Fair was fair: Nicholas had got to read an entire dossier on him while he had just been given Nicholas' CV, heavily edited he had no doubt, and a quick briefing which had felt more like a test.

He was just thinking that the call must have been over when he heard Nicholas' voice again, rich with amusement. "Like that is it?"

He looked up, expecting to see Nicholas there... but there was only the mostly closed door and the hint of light beyond. The call was clearly not over at all and Mark felt a sudden stab of doubt. He shouldn't be listening to this. The tone had slid from joking to intimate and it was not hard to imagine how the person at the other end of the line must be reacting.

"Alright," Nicholas conceded, "but this stops if anyone comes back".

That was the moment he needed to announce himself - to let Nicholas know that he wasn't as alone as he thought he was - but the words didn't come.

"Where did we meet?" Nicholas said, quietly enough that Mark almost missed it. He shouldn't be listening. He knew where this was going and it wasn't something that he was meant to be part of. "I know the place," Nicholas continued after a pause, "full of tight-arsed, log cabin Republicans. You should have been more careful going to a place like that - you never know who's going to take you home. Or what they want..."

Mark wondered if a pillow over his head would help. He could just turn the light on and walk out. Could bring everything to an end. But then he would have to admit that he was there - that he had heard more than enough already.

"...oh, you want that, do you?" Nicholas asked, smooth and dark.

Mark didn't want that. Not that he thought Nicholas would be particularly bothered. Not on a personal level - although it would probably get included in the next report to Whitehall. Mark flopped backwards in the bed in defeat. He had got himself into this - he could survive one dirty phone call. After all, how bad could it be?

"Have you ever been with another man?"

The question was not aimed at him but Mark found himself answering it anyway: no he hadn't. Although, while he could say - think - believe - that with total honesty, in his own mind he knew it to be disingenuous in the extreme.

"But you've thought about it?"

Mark snorted silently. It had been a difficult not to when it was happening right next to you. Or just across from you. His cock twitched at the memories - sounds rough and desperate through too thin cubical walls and his own reaction to hearing them. Firework flashes and another display, illogically more amazing and evocative that he couldn't - hadn't wanted to - look away from. Oh yes, he had thought about it.

"And what did you think about, Angel? Did you think about someone like me sucking on that dick of yours? Because if you just wanted to get your dick sucked then there are lots of pretty girls out there who'll do that without you needing to worry about what your mother might say." Mark could feel his eyebrows rise in surprise and then reminded himself that a) for all he knew Nicholas might be bisexual, b) sex-talk and reality were two very different beasts and the logics of one rarely applied to the other and c) he was hardly in a position to pass comment. "But I don't think you want that" Nicholas continued, "I think you want to know what it feels like to have your lips stretching around my cock. I think you want to know what it would feel like if I pushed you down on that bed and worked you open, twisted my fingers so deep in your body you'd think I was touching your soul. I think you want to know what it would feel my cock pushing into you..."

'God' Mark thought helplessly. Whatever his vague, and general, curiosity had been before, he was definitely thinking about it now. And with very Nicholas-shaped specifics. Nicholas was just so damn professional all the time that he never really equated Nicholas being gay with him having sex with men. Mark was sure he did - he just had trouble imagining Nicholas having a personal life. Or indeed any life beyond his job. Now he couldn't stop. The images that Nicholas' words conjured in his mind were burned there, repeating again and again. What would Nicholas feel like... taste like... touch like..? Nicholas who had served in two war zones and three police actions. Who had worn army green, UN blue and SIS grey with equal distinction and charming ruthlessness. Nicholas who was his friend, advisor, minder and guard. Nicholas who could destroy him and his career in any one of a thousand ways if he was ordered to.

"Don't worry, Angel," Nicholas reassured him. "I'll take it slow... take you slow. You want this don't you? Want me to make you come screaming my name? Just relax Angel, and let me take care of you."

Mark could not have stopped himself reaching for his fly if his life had depended on it. His erection was hard, ready, in his hand and he stroked it roughly, pushing up in a clumsy thrust as he raised his hips enough to allow his free hand to shimmy his trousers from his hips and out of the way.

"I want you to strip for me, Angel. I want to see that hot body of yours. I want to see all of you - see you laid out like a fucking buffet."

It was no way to treat good tailoring but he didn't care, toeing his shoes off so he could kick his trousers off as well. Feeling ridiculously half-naked with his shirt and and jacket still on he forced his hand off his erection for just long enough to peel them off. He had just enough control to move himself more firmly on the bed, getting himself comfortable while Nicholas' voice wove it's promises.

"Do you like that?" Nicholas asked. "The thought of me watching you? Does that make that thick cock of yours jump? Just think about how you are going to look when I am through with you: those sweet, pink lips all plump from sucking cock... and that pretty, virgin arse of yours all slick and fucked open. Not sure I could see that and not touch - not slide my fingers back inside you, play with that sweet hole of yours... let you see how much more you can take..."

Mark pushed down the rising need. His fingers carded through the course hair at his groin to cup his balls. Rolling them within his hand he tugged lightly, teasing himself as he often did with both the touch and its lack elsewhere. Wanting to last just a little longer.

"Tell me, Angel, have you ever touched yourself like that?" Mark's breath caught in his throat and he tugged again, harder this time, feeling the back of his fingers brush lower against the sensitive skin behind his balls. "Ever licked your fingers and fucked yourself on them while you fantasised about what it would be like if only you dared find a real man to do it for you. Now you know. Can you feel that? Feel my finger inside you?"

Mindlessly Mark stuck his fingers in his mouth; quick and messy and getting them as wet as possible. Bending one knee and spreading his legs to give him better access he reached down. It wasn't that he had never touched himself before, but beyond the normal ablutions it had never really occurred to him; something to be avoided at the doctors for a few more years rather than something to do for pleasure. He did it now - not only stroking the soft puckered skin but pushing against the resisting ring of muscle to gain entry. It felt strange. Alien.

"That's two."

The second finger was harder. More resistance and the bad angle working against him.

"You want more don't you, Angel?"

Mark wasn't so sure. His body fighting itself in uncomfortable ways. He shifted slightly his fingers sliding out as his position changed and oh! That felt good. Still a bit odd but the shift and stretch and pull... Mark panted as his cock jerked, fitful and abandoned. Odd or not, it was working for him and much more than he had expected. Whether it was the touch itself, the situation or Nicholas' commentary he was past caring. He twitched his fingers, testing the range of movement then withdrew them up push back in as he imagined Nicholas would. He could too easily picture the smile in the blue-grey eyes as Mark reacted to the unaccustomed caress. It was a glimpse of something he hadn't known he wanted. He knew now. He wanted now. Wanted to feel something more - bigger - deeper - harder - feel the pressure grow inside him until he was infused with it, pushing him to the edge and over.

"Not yet," Nicholas said, soft and understanding. "Not yet. When you're ready."

Mark stifled the desire to yell 'Damn it, Nicholas, just do it already' across the intervening distance. The small bit of sanity he retained preventing him before he could give himself away. But, Christ, he wanted to. Wanted to be Nicholas' Angel who was not limited to illicit fumblings and filched pleasures. Because Nicholas was only a few steps - a shout - away with his long, clever, deadly fingers and his hard cock, filled from his own stories and the responses that Mark wasn't privy to.

"I know, Angel," Nicholas consoled, "you want it all and you want it now but you're new to this and we need to take it slow."

Mark couldn't help the irreverent feeling that 'Angel' was probably calling Nicholas a whole host of very dirty names right at that moment. He had little sympathy - the man, whoever he was, had asked for this. He, however, was on a white knuckle ride to madness, the knuckles in question crooked inside him and not nearly enough.

"I'm going to suck you now," Nicholas said and Mark couldn't quite stop the hiss of breath that those words caused. He was totally at Nicholas' mercy and it was only by the grace of God, who was by far the more clement of the two, that Nicholas didn't know that. "Swallow that hard cock of yours down while I work your arse."

It was a bit awkward - fingering himself with his right hand and fisting his cock with the left but he managed. If managed was sufficient to encompass the chain-reaction that each stroke of his hand, each thrust and twist of his fingers stoked and inspired to new levels. His wrist brushed against the taunt knot of his balls, drawn up and tense with anticipation. He let the need take him as Nicholas asked "Are you ready?"

Close. He was so close. The desire and pleasure cramping his muscles and all he needed was a little more...

"Can you feel that?" Nicholas asked, voice low and almost as broken as Mark felt. "That's my cock pushing into you. I can feel you - so fucking tight around me. All resistance one moment... then just giving in, giving yourself up to me. You'd take anything I gave you now wouldn't you? Oh yes - I can feel you. Squeezing around me, gripping me like you never want to let me go. Is that it Angel? You want me to stay here, buried in your body, hollowing you out with my cock until all you can feel is me?"

_YesNicholasGod_... Mark's thought disintegrated as his release flowed through him. A tidal wave of sensation that beat at his body, drowning him only to revive him for another onslaught. He had flashes of clarity; the tight clench of muscle around his fingers, almost painful but triggering a new wash of feeling. The clench of his fingers around his cock - welcoming the rough claiming of his flesh as his body stuttered and jolted it's completion. The soft, rasp of Nicholas' voice telling him how good he was - how good he felt - the veneer of education and refinement finally cracked in a way Mark had never thought he would hear. It was in the knowledge that Nicholas, too, was coming - had been sat so close by working his own cock as he talked - that accompanied Mark into bliss.

Mark came back to himself in the silent gloom. For a moment he just lay there, spread on the bed like a beached starfish, content to wait for the metaphorical sea to catch him up and sweep him away into darkness. He should move he knew - should do something about the come smeared across his chest and belly. Should get under the covers or into his night clothes. Should clean his teeth... wash his hands. None of those circumstances, sensible as they were, could invoke the impetus necessary to make him move. When he moved reality would come crashing back with its harsh reflection of what he had just done. So much better to just lie there - enjoy the moment focusing on nothing but the thin line of light that cut across the room like divine inspiration.

'Shit - the door!' Mark thought blurrily. He staggered on slightly shaky legs across the room and closed out the rest of the world. Panic did what common decency had not and banished the last of his euphoria, leaving him with nothing but his own shame. He needed to time to think - to recover. Hell - he needed time to process so that when he saw Nicholas the next morning he did not give away the slightest hint of what had happened.

He cleaned himself up mechanically until the only incriminating evidence was in his head. That he didn't think he could ever scrub that clean. What he had done was a betrayal, pure and simple. Except that it had been neither pure nor simple. Nor could he truly bring himself to regret it like he should. The circumstances, that was damning, but the rest... Mark crawled into bed, pulling the covers around him. He was pretty sure that middle-aged, experienced representatives of Her Majesty's Government were supposed to be past these little questions of identity. Especially over their entirely too competent Intelligence officer.

As he drifted off to a fitful sleep he wondered if Nicholas checked his personal credit card receipts and would see if he bought himself a vibrator.

It felt like he had only just closed his eyes when something, someone, dragged him back to consciousness - a hand on his shoulder and a familiar face looking down at him. For a confused moment he wasn't sure if he was real or a dream.

"Nicholas?" He reached for the bedside light, blinking and finally convinced he was awake.

"Sorry," Nicholas sounded sincere. He hair was mussed from sleep but he looked annoyingly perky. "Urgent phone call from London."

It was hard to tell given the lofty and advantageous position of the suite but very little noise filtered through to him from outside, suggestion the surrounding city had yet to rouse. That made Mark feel a little better about his groggy state. "What time is it?" he asked roughly. Whatever Nicholas had said there wasn't any of the intensity Mark expected if it was really an emergency.

"Close to 5:30 our time."

Mark sighed, pulling himself together. "They forgot I wasn't in Washington didn't they?"

"Let's hope. Here," Nicholas handed him a coffee as he sat up, "I know you didn't get much sleep last night."

Mark stared at Nicholas in shock.

"I heard you all come back," Nicholas explained.

Mark forced himself to breath normally. Of course Nicholas had heard the others come back and assumed Mark was with them - his indiscretion remained undiscovered. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and took the coffee carefully. If his hand shook that was just the instability of the mattress.

"Thanks," he breathed with more feeling that he intended.

Nicholas chuckled. "It's just coffee. There's always a small chance you're actually needed for more than giving a detailed explanation of time zones to those idiots."

The coffee was just what he needed. "Lead on MacDuff," he said and stood.

"Lay on," Nicholas corrected quietly, holding the door for him.

Mark shot him a look of amused disaffection and Nicholas crooked a half-smile back, the skin around his eyes crinkling with unrepentant humour. Mark was suddenly glad that his pyjama bottoms were loose and that any physical reaction could be easily explained by the early hour. Following Nicholas back to his room and the secure line his speculation from the previous night about possible acquisitions came back to him. Better not risk it, he decided - he'd pay cash.


End file.
